


Kuroo Tetsurou's Less than Fabulous LoveLife

by Chiru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asexual Character, Being Second Choice, Bisexual Character, Break Up, Comfort Sex, Doomed Relationship, F/M, Hook-Up, M/M, Making Out, Relationship(s), so many of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiru/pseuds/Chiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started when Kuroo was 12, and hasn't really ended yet, for as far as he knows. He can only wish it'll have an happy ending at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 12- Kenma

**Author's Note:**

> Kuroo and pretty much every pairing I've seen him with. Except for Yaku, coz I feel I don't know him well enough, somehow. Also no Hinata because sorry I really don't get that xD;;  
> 

It all started when Kuroo was 12.

Kenma and him were playing at the playground just two blocks away from where they lived, tossing the volleyball back and forth, the occasional spike aside. Kuroo was glowing, happy to be outside and moving and playing the bestest game of all games ever invented. Besides, not only did he convince his friend to leave the house, he also saved his favourite (maybe a little ragged) t-shirt from the bin this morning, which would be about the third time his mom tried to dispose of it, in vain.

Today was a good day, he knew without a doubt.

Yesterday had been fun too, sure, but he couldn’t indulge Kenma in his games all the time- he got restless from sitting and pressing buttons for too long. It had only taken about half an hour of nagging to get Kenma out the door. Kuroo counted himself lucky to have such a good friend.

Even if said friend had no stamina at all.

Seriously.

Then again, what else to expect when he just sat on his tiny hide whenever Kuroo wasn’t around?

After being asked to take a break by the weaker boy, for about three or four times, the messy haired boy found kindness in his fantastic heart, and agreed to a short recess. Not that it mattered much, Kenma had already walked off to the swing set and sat down.

Kuroo kept tossing into the air by himself a little while before throwing the ball in the direction of the swing. Kenma caught it easily, and disappointment slipped onto Kuroo’s face when the younger boy put the toy down under his seat and made no further motion to keep the game going. Or rather, made no further move at all.

Admitting defeat, young Kuroo took a seat on the other swing and pushed off- again and again to get as high as he could, and then even higher. He didn’t stop until the seat did a little free fall to come down from it’s highest point, and Kenma was looking at him sideways, a hint of worry on his face.

With the widest of grins on his face the boy jumped off his seat and landed perfectly! Well, he stumbled and grazed open his hands a little, but considering his track record (he’d once nearly broken his arm attempting the bestest jump, and his mom had all but banned him from the swings) that was a feat of true genius.

Upright again he turned in glee at his friend, who shiftily met his gaze and gave him a nod before looking back at his shuffling feet.

“Kenmaaaaaa-” whined Kuroo as he dragged himself back to the swing, leaning against the solid frame at Kenma’s side. The boy might not be the most outgoing and energetic (an euphemism made out of the endless kindness of Kuroo’s heart), but today’s listlessness was extreme (as was his own hyperness, but he saw no reason anyone would complain about that). He poked the other with his foot, baiting a reaction.

“I’m tired…” Mumbled his friend, and Kuroo’s eyes turned to slits.

“Did you stay up playing games without me?” He grumbled, said as an accusation, not even meant for a percent. He knew his buddy was addicted, he had gotten over the idea of doing anything truly together on that front. Oh well.

“Uhmmm…” Kenma’s eyes flew from his face to his feet to his own feet, to the seesaw’s on the other side of the playground. His feet shuffled and his hands fidgeted and the poor thing truly didn’t yet get when Kuroo was just pulling his leg or being honest. (Kuroo couldn’t blame him, he wasn’t the easiest to figure out. Surely once Kenma got the hang of him, he’d be able to read anybody.)

Then, for just a moment, Kuroo considered that instead of becoming a profession volleyball player or astronaut, he should make a fortune by being a movie star, seen his awesome acting skills. But this thought was a fleeting thing, the fiddling of his friend making a whole new, completely unexpected idea take over: 

Kenma looked cute and absolutely adorable when he was insecure like this.

It made a happy smile creep onto Kuroo’s lips, and before he knew it he was leaning forward. He called the boy’s name, and when his eyes met those wide yellow globes, he pressed their lips together.

It was an innocent affair, just their mouths against each other, but it was both of their first kiss, and with it a whole new side of his life opened up. His lips tingled and stomach bubbled, and with that contact Kuroo learned three things.

Firstly, despite it being the first time and having no basis to conclude this on at all, there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with kissing another boy. Their lips fit together perfectly, nice and warm and comforting. There was just no way that a girl’s lips could feel any better than this.

Secondly, he liked Kenma a lot. Well, of course he did, they were pretty much best friends, but he definitely liked him a little better than he had liked any other best friends he’d ever had. And Kenma liked him too, that much was clear (how could he not?).

And yet, lastly, even though the younger boy didn’t pull away, didn’t seem too thrown off or uncomfortable by the move, and perhaps felt similar warm, trust and closeness, Kenma would have no interest in doing it again. Ever.

Kuroo didn’t know how he knew any of this, but as he pulled away and met the other boy’s big bright eyes with a shining grin, he knew he was right.

“Enough break!” He proclaimed full of confidence, grabbed the ball in one hand and Kenma’s wrist in the other and dragged him out of the swing seat. “We can go to yours after, but I want to spike some more first!”

  
Kenma allowed it, smiled softly back, and they left the kiss and any talk about it behind, by the dangling swing in that play park two blocks from where they lived.

[ ](http://nadirising.tumblr.com/post/108126609836/it-all-started-when-kuroo-was-12-so-i-wrote)


	2. 14 - ?

When he was 14 years old Kuroo had a girlfriend for about two weeks. She was a nice quiet girl, pretty and serious. Blushed a lot. Was a blushing mess as she confessed to him, and he didn’t quite know why he accepted.

Despite his considerable popularity, which he wouldn’t brag about but was totally brag worthy, like, you should just see the chocolates left for him at his desk and locker on valentines, he hadn’t gotten many confessions. His classmate and best female friend, Naomi, explained it was because he was scary. His perplexed face made the foreign girl snigger and develop: “You’re tall and imposing and always busy. Even when you’re nice to a girl and help her out, you’ll still feel… distant? Yeah, that’s probably a good word. So yeah, many of my girls got the hots for you.”

“Oho! What about you?” He answered, a large smirk on his lips.

“Oh you wish.” She punched his shoulder lightly.

The relationship wouldn’t last, something Kuroo was sure of on their second day, when they walked home together, Kenma having gone ahead by himself. They spoke of pointless things, like classes and teachers and who-did-what’s and tv-shows, and the boy felt incredibly bored. He didn’t want to, she seemed nice and all, but they didn’t know each other, and she seemed to consider that a detail next to holding his hand, stealing kisses and sitting thigh to thigh in the train.

Somehow it was her that broke it off. She said it was as if he didn’t like her, didn’t care, and he couldn’t really disagree. They had been in a very awkward situation just the day prior, when his rejection of her advances failed to be quite as subtle as he’d have liked (it wasn’t even that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to while knowing fully well it would all lead to nothing).

He talked about it with Kenma, who suggested, quietly, that perhaps he didn’t like girls. Kuroo thought this over for quite a while, but decided that wasn’t the case. He just didn’t like this girl… and perhaps he preferred boys, but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

Years later he’d be embarrassed to think back and realize that he dated this girl for two weeks and a bit, but had long forgotten her name.


	3. 15- Oikawa

At 15 years old Kuroo learned a harsh truth: he was not, in fact, as he’d been guaranteed many times by his closest friends, the most annoying being on the face of the earth. See, none of these friends had clearly ever met one Oikawa Tooru, new and promising setter of Aoba Jousai, and if they had than they bloody well had been lying to him.

Nekoma High was in Miyagi for a whole program of practice matches, and Seijou was just one of the many at first- one of the strongest, but still. It wasn’t until both teams stepped on the court that anybody truly payed attention. Oikawa was, as Kuroo, one of the few first years on the team, and as such they quickly zoned in on each others as rivals.

Their eyes were locking when Kuroo was in front and Oikawa met his glance for a moment, offering him a gorgeous smile. Kuroo wished he could deny it, but there wasn’t much leeway, the guy was just hot as hell. He jumped at the spiker in front of him, but as his eyes followed the movement of the ball it was set backwards instead- he tried to reach in the other direction but the ball flew without resistance inbetween the defence’s hands and slammed onto their court.

“Nice one Saito-san!” Sounded the melodic drum of the setter’s voice, and Kuroo glared with all his power at his opponent. He wasn’t the only one, either. He could see how the older Seijou players were still conflicted towards receiving praise from an underclassman. It was also clear to the messy haired opponent that it was really just a matter of pride- Oikawa sounded pleasant and incentivizing when addressing his teammates, like a setter should. Seemed hierarchy wasn’t just an issue at Nekoma, he realized, shaking his head, rolling his shoulders, getting ready for the next serve.

There was never much hope for Nekoma, not really. None of his senpai were really good, and the ones that were kind of good didn’t take it serious enough to be better. Kuroo wished, not for the first time that trip, that he had Kenma by his side. He was sure they wouldn’t have lost the first set with a 10 point difference.

The second set started with Oikawa’s serve and Kuroo in the back. He’d been eager to try to receive it, this jumping serve, but had so far not had the chance. Their eyes met, for a moment, and Kuroo would never be sure if it was coincidence or plan that the ball flew towards him. He shifted into position as fast as he could and stretched out his arms. The volleyball hurt as it landed perfectly between his lower arms, and he lifted it towards their setter. He was only a little off course, and when he next met Oikawa’s eyes, there was a hint of strain between his eyebrows, and he answers with a wide grin. Oikawa tilted his head and smiled, but it was forced, the air between them static with tension… Then a teammate hit the brunet on the back and the moment dissolved.

The second set was filled with many more moments like that, blocks and glances and spikes and grins. Nekoma fought harder, but in the end Aoba Jousai won without much difficulty, as expected, rounding up the second set with a neat 19-24.

As the other team’s coach gave them a few words of advice, Kuroo felt hot brown eyes upon him, and found the source exactly where he expected: Oikawa’s burning gaze fixed on him. Seeing the challenge for what it was, Kuroo broke away from his team as soon as the coach was done and made straight for the other teen, grin set and ready for battle. When he was only a few steps from his target, said target turned to his friend, smiled sweetly (to which the other glared), offered a few words Kuroo couldn’t hear (and are disinterestedly waved off by the seijou spiker), and connected their gaze for but a second before filing out of the court.

Kuroo followed, sensing an invitation, and walked down the corridor a few steps behind the setter. When said teen pulled open a door and jumped inside, Kuroo sprinted the last few metres and slipped in with him.

He was pulled the last centimetre and instantly slammed against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, another flying into his hair, pulling his face down to devour his mouth. Kuroo groaned, and his hands wrapped around Oikawa to pull him closer, their bodies flush against each other, tongues deep in each other’s mouths. They hadn’t traded a single word, but neither seemed to feel inclined to, only interested in the tension, simply incapable of resisting the energy flowing around them, through them, drawn to each other like magnets, teeth clashing, hands groping, bodies grinding up against each other. There were moans and groans and curses as the tempo rose and their holds turned painful and their teeth start biting and it was of an intensity Kuroo had never been part of before, had no idea could even exist, this raw attraction of the most base form.

They shuddered and their breaths hitched, and they came into their shorts within seconds of each other. Leaning against the other for support, breathing each other’s breath, panting hard and still shivering, they waited for the control of their bodies to reconnect with their brains.

When they finally do, they broke apart, and Oikawa spared him but a brief glance and tiny nod before opening the door and leaving, no words exchanged. Kuroo thought it better like that too- that disheveled boy, the flush still high on his cheeks, might’ve been irresistible if he’d stayed longer. Adjusting himself in his shorts, he set out after the setter, following him back at a distance before they each parted to their own team’s dressing room.

A few days later, while Kenma was playing games and he watched him jump and dodge and collect tokens, bored, he thought back on what the boy had suggested about his orientation. He still wasn’t sure. He was pretty convinced that this thing with Oikawa had been especial in a way; that kind of feral attraction could only be a once upon a lifetime thing. Perhaps there was no need to limit himself to any label. He considered researching, but got turned off by the very though. It really didn’t matter, he figured, and he dropped the concern altogether. He didn’t tell his friend about any of it, and never saw Oikawa again.

[ ](http://nadirising.tumblr.com/post/108192087081/they-hadnt-traded-a-single-word-but-neither)


	4. 17- Tsukishima

During his last year of high school, aged 17, Kuroo Tetsurou met Tsukishima Kei. It wasn’t a firework festival and love at first sight and heart shaped balloons appearing from the void. Instead, it was Kuroo’s eyes being constantly dragged to the pretty blond on the other side of the net, it was Kuroo noticing his flaws and failures and missed opportunities, it was Kuroo not being able to fight a smile at the other’s serious frown and disposition. He was bluntly ignored at their first encounter, and he found no difficulty in shrugging it off with a fond smile. The boy was promising, the captain told himself.

It wasn’t until their joined training camp that Kuroo realized it wasn’t just that. Tsukishima allured him, pulled him in, made his stomach tingle happily. So he did what he did best: showered the boy with playful jeers and teasing provocations.

It worked (at least Tsukki no longer walked off after a single sentence) and he clang to the boy during extra practice, tried to help him, teach him, find him some motivation. He wasn’t sure if it was him or Bokuto or his freckled friend that managed that in the end, but he had no problem with that. He was just happy to see the boy motivated for once, and felt his heart swell with pride at the other’s improvements from then on.

But training camp was too short and Kuroo knew he wanted more. He wanted to actually get to know the boy, guide him beyond these four walls and the slope outside. That truly was the intent with which he approached the blond the last night of camp, when all were happy and sated from the barbecue.

Uninvited, Kuroo lowered himself onto the grass next to the blond, noticing with glee that the other didn’t pull away (sure he threw him a dirty look at the disruption of his peace, but that was nothing, really).

“So.”

“So what?”

“So you should give me your number so I can keep giving you quality advice, megane-kun. You’ve gotten better, but you still have a long long LONG long long looooooong way to go…” He grinned widely in the dark. Tsukishima met his gaze with a pestered glare, his lips tight and thin. Then he swallowed and launched forward. Kuroo barely registered any of it before the feeling of dry chapped lips against his own overwhelmed him.

He stared, at a loss for words, eyes wide, as the other pulled back, a delicious blush on his cheeks, frown etched deeper than ever before, eyes persistently looking away.

“Tch,” He said, and finally realizing the boy was preparing to leave, Kuroo grabbed his shoulders and reconnected their mouths. Tsukishima was, to his credit, a lot better at answering the surprise kiss than Kuroo had been, and it didn’t take long for their tongues to twine together, licking into each other, panting softly against each other’s mouths.

They made out for a good hour, only cutting it off because teachers had started calling the students in, hoarding them off to bed. It was only as they disconnected that they realized how easily they could have been caught, and Kuroo counted his prayed for that. He tried to not let if affect him when Tsukishima all but ran off once separate. It was pretty much as expected of the blond.

In the end he didn’t get his number then, nor did the next day provide an opportunity. But alas, Tsukishima was out of luck, because Kuroo had a friend who was friends with somebody that knew somebody that had his number. And so, because Kenma asked Shrimpy who asked Freckle Boy, Kuroo finally got his hands on the treasure.

«You thought you could snog the idea out of me, but your vile plan failed, Tsukishima-kun!» He sent, in manner of greeting, to his prize.

«Kuroo-san?» Came the reply, sooner than he’d expected. «The one and only ;D» he answered without a second thought, then added, suddenly feeling a twinge of concern, «I got your number through Kenma. That’s ok, ait?”

«Yeah,» was the single word answer that was, in a way, the beginning of everything.

Like that, from a distance, they slowly learned about each other, getting closer with each text not left unanswered and each call not instantly rejected. Kuroo got to know Tsukishima’s favourite dinosaur (he got to know about the dinosaurs by accident and refused to drop the topic. It’d only taken a few days), and told him about his favourite pastry (and that he knew how to bake. «Am I a catch or am I a catch?» «No.»). He heard about the existence of the older Tsukishima brother, and he told him about his struggles with the little pest he had the pleasure of calling his best friend. They had spend a good two months texting back and forth, when finally Kuroo stepped over the inner awkwardness that yes, even his brilliant self possessed, and asked the question.  
  
«Do you want to meet up?» He pressed send as if signing his own death sentence.

«I’m not going down to Tokyo.» Dinged his phone. Kuroo knew Tsukki well enough to rejoice at that. «So when can I come over there? ;)» He answered, a face breaking grin on his lips.

Nine days later Kuroo stepped out of the train at the nearest station to Tsukki’s house and rose to the tip of his toes to look around for his now favourite blonde (or, should he say, favourite natural blonde). And yeah, Tsukki was there, leaning against a wall like he don’t care and just be hanging around there coz he’za rebel yo. Kuroo smiled widely, his cheeks already hurting, as he hurried over to the teen he’d spend the last month flirting with and dreaming about. Upon arrival he shorted his step to a casual drawl and dropped lazily against the wall next to his fellow middle blocker.

“Sup?” He yawned, but could only battle his smile for so long as dear Tsukki glared at him, a vein pulsing on his temple. Giving up, the joy he felt showed on his face, and for a moment he thought he saw Tsukishima’s lips twitch in want to do the same, but then he was moving, pushing off the wall and walking off.

“You want to go somewhere?” He asked, and Kuroo shrugged, falling in step half behind him. “I dunno, got any good caffee’s in the vicinity?” And Tsukishima answered with the same shoulder motion. Kuroo always wished he could see the other’s face as the next words escaped his lips. “We can go to mine.”

And so they did. It took them about 20 minutes of sitting on the coach before dropping all pretenses and going to hide in Kei’s room, where they could make out without having to worry when his parents were coming back.

They lay on Tsukki’s bed, Kuroo sprawled all over the younger teen, two sets of hands roaming fervently and tongs mingling excitedly. When the bedhead lifted the blond’s shirt and dragged his hands under them, Tsukki’s breath caught, crumbling into a moan when released. It was a gorgeous sound, and it repeated when the shirt was pulled up, Kuroo’s lips and tongues tentatively breaking with his partner’s to reconnect with his skin of his stomach. Tsukki groaned, and for a moment his body tensed up.

Breathing in the smell, Kuroo nuzzled the flat expanse of his midsection for a moment before turning his gaze up to the blond. His expression was strained and a little apprehensive, even. The older teen smiled softly, took a deep breath, then forced his face into the other’s belly and motorboated as loud as he could.

Tsukki squeaked- no he will never be convinced of anything else no matter how much the blond insisted- and pulled back. “WHAT THE FUCK?” He yelled, and hit Kuroo over the head. This one just sniggered, and put his cheek against the warm surface, smiling happily. “Relax, Tsukki-chan~” He drawled, and Tsukishima pouted. “You’re horrible.” He pushed out between clenched teeth, before allowing a smile onto his features too.

The next time they met was a time for many first. Kuroo’s first confession. Tsukishima’s first time receiving one. Both of their first boyfriend. And, by the end of the night, both of their first times too, although Tsukki would never believe that.

They dated for three months, and most of this time was spend apart. They talked a lot, texted even more, offered comfort when possible and helped him with whatever he was allowed to. Once Kuroo had ended up tutoring Tsukishima through skype, and that was an odd experience for everybody. Tsukishima was not used to having someone explain something just to him- he’d always been a smart kid that could figure out everything by himself. And he would have solved this too, if not for his smart-ass boyfriend butting in before he’d had the chance to. Kuroo on the other hand, was shocked to realize he actually enjoyed it. Not only the opportunity to tease Kei, but also the whole explaining process as a whole, really. This was when he decided to offer tutoring classes when in university.

But that distance. That was a pain. It was difficult, and sometimes things would get rough, with prickly attitudes and «please stfu for tonight»’s. Whenever they managed to meet, they’d have so much pent up, they wouldn’t waste any time to get into each other’s mouths and pants. It was a system that worked, all in all, despite Kuroo cursing the lack of lazy cuddles on the couch after a bad movie or entire days wasting away with volleyball or maybe even long afternoons talking at a caffee when they only ordered one coffee.

As time dragged on Tsukki was often tired, and spoke in short cut off sentence, and Kuroo just wished he could crawl up to him and hold him close. Sometime Tsukki wouldn’t show up online for a few days on end, not answer his texts, but Kuroo understood. The teen had his own worries and life, problems and issues. His advice was mostly rejected, and he’d come to accept it wasn’t his place to try to fix his boyfriend. No, he just had to support him, that was enough…

It wasn’t ideal, but all in all Kuroo was happy.

Turned out that was not the case for Tsukishima.

“What?” Kuroo asked, confused and a little overwhelmed.

“I’m breaking up with you.” He repeated, unrelenting.

“Why?” He swallowed, felt his chest tighten.

“We only ever have sex,” Tsukishima proceeded, barely a flush to his face, “and I don’t want to waste my time.”

Kuroo’s throat went dry, and he frowned. “What? Tsukki, that’s bullshit, c’mon-”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” It sounded final, and Kuroo was at a loss.

“And I don’t get it. Just tell me why, Tsukki?”

“Don’t call me that!” The words are biten with a heat Kuroo hadn’t heard from the other in ages. He searched his boyfriend’s gaze, desperate for an answer. He sees nothing, but starts getting an idea. “Is this about Yamaguchi?”

Tsukishima is startled at the suggestion, and Kuroo guessed there is truth to his words, whether the blond knows it yet or not. “Yamaguchi has nothing to do with this. You and I are just not working.”

Kuroo swallowed, nodded to himself. Kei had made up his mind, that much was obvious, and with how stubborn the boy was, dragging it out any longer was pointless, pathetic and probably just annoying, really; it being the conversation, or the relationship for that matter.

Biting back a jeer, he shrugged and gave the boy a small grin. “Alright then, whatever you want, princess.”

Then he watched his first boyfriend walk off, like it was no big deal, like he didn’t care, like he was actually OK with it rather than just putting up with whatever his partner has decided to be best for himself. He wouldn’t be the one to hold Kei back, he wouldn’t. But pretending like it didn’t tear him up inside was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

Kenma just smiled kindly at him, nudged his shoulder softly against his where they sat together on the setter’s bed, and asked if he wanted to play a game.

[ ](http://nadirising.tumblr.com/post/108287869571/when-the-bedhead-lifted-the-blonds-shirt-and)


	5. 18- Bokuto

His 18th year of living and first year in university was a sort of milestone to Kuroo. Or, at least, it marked a big change in his life. While most people would assume this to be obvious, the opening of a new phase of his existence and all, to Kuroo it presented itself in a very simple and painfully obvious change in company. When he and Bokuto got into the same uni there was a shout, a spontaneous suggestion, an overeager agreement, followed by one of the biggest disasters ever to grace campus. That was how the, let’s admit it, slow and calm company of Kenma was suddenly replaced with the boisterous and overly excited Bokuto.

When they moved in they made plans. Plans for world domination, campus popularity, the sickest handshake ever yo, winning everything there was to win with their new volley team, and so on and so forth.

“No man, we gotta fists bump FIRST!”

“Nah nah bro, it’s way cooler when we start with a high-five-”

“Agh, stop blabbing and let’s just try it out!”

They spend about an entire afternoon, all their stuff still boxed, on the couch together trying to figure out the best combination. When they finally came to a somewhat agreeable solution to both parties, night had fallen. They ordered take-out without second thought.

“Ohhh, what about a rhyme to go with it?”

Kuroo cleared his throat before the impromptu rap rolled from his lips. “Yo- Mah Bro- What’s Up- In da Club- Keep it Real – That’s the Deal- Check it out?” He ended, arms crossed, defiant pout on his lips, and received his well deserve applause with a stoic nod.

“Needs some work-” “Hey!” “- but not a bad start! Oh but we gotta like, include our names in that man, so it’s like, proper ours, all trademarked and shit!”

“Oya!! Yes… but maybe we should use nicknames instead? Or shortened versions? Like, them names be to big, dog!”

They took a moment to snigger at their own ridiculousness, not as oblivious as most people would believe, before proceeding with their quest. “I’ll be the Cool Owl.” “Then I’ll be Epic Cat.” “What, no, if you have epic then I want Greatest!” “Supreme.” “Almighty!” “Godly.” “MOST AWESOMIST COOLEST OF ALL BEING OWLS IS ME!”

Kuroo almost spat his beer all over the couch as response- “No no noooo man, no way, this won’t work. Let’s keep it simple, like, uhmmm… Well, you can use Bo, but Ku sounds like shite, so we’re not doing that. Maybe I could-”

“Yo, bro, don’t ya split is up, we gotta be in sync for this to work, c’mon!”

“Haha, alright alright, euhmmm…”

“What about- OH! OH OH OH DUDE DUDE DUDE!!” Bokuto jumped up and down in his seat, face split in a grin that looked painful and all-consuming. Also, contagious.

“What what what?”

“Kou-” he pointed at himself, “Tetsu-” he pointed at Kuroo, “makes Koutetsu!!”

“Like armour or like we’re gonna fuck everything up?” He smirks.

“Who says we gotta choose?”

They fist-bumped on it and downed the rest of their beers.

The alcohol was a fad that lost it’s allure faster than either had expected. They didn’t need to be drunk to be ridiculous and have fun, and going out was a pain to their wallets. While they did occasionally throw some rad parties at theirs, each time followed by promises of never doing it again, they mostly kept the drinking to especial days. Like bad-movie night and I-just-had-an-exam-and-it-went-really-bad-why-the-fuck-didn’t-you-make-me-study-more/I’m-not-your-mom-bro afternoons.

So, all in all, uni was a blast. And it only got better- well, not their apartment, that never really recovered, since all attempts at cleaning individually were quit because I-got-bored/you-didn’t-do-your-part-either, and all attempts at cleaning together ended in water fights and/or wrestling on the floor.

It was bad movie night plus one; they had gotten outstandingly drunk the night before while bravely enduring all three of the I Know What You Did Last Summer movies, and Kuroo’s head was pounding like a bitch.

He dragged himself out of bed (impressed he’d managed to make it to bed to begin with), threw on some sweatpants and a sleeveless hoodie as he dragged himself to the kitchen. Four glasses of water and 2 trips to the bathroom later he walked, quite stably, to a window and carefully pulling aside the curtains- only to pull them back together as fast as he could. Light didn’t agree with him, so he decided to reward his eyes with darkness. Then he dropped into the loveseat, sprawled all over and turned on the tv for some soft background noise. It was a habit he’d picked up from Bokuto- he’d moved in hating on the tv always being on during the first week, before converting for the sake of sanity.

He’d not been watching the tv for about half an hour when he heard the toilet flush and Bokuto stumble into the kitchen. “Mo’nin.” He received, and he waved his arm over the seat, mumbling a careless “yeah” as answer.

A few minutes later, during which it sounded like Bokuto was hanging with his lips at the tap again, the friend appear next to him and dropped carelessly into his best bro’s lap. “I dunno about you but I had way too much to drink. I don’t remember crap of the last… two movies? How many did we watch?” His friend complained while he tried to wiggle himself into a comfortable position. Kuroo just sighed and turned properly onto his back to allow a more adequate share of the seat that was really only good for one, one and a half person. (But he didn’t complain. They always fought over this spot, despite having a whole other way bigger couch available)

“We saw three, but I’m pretty sure there wasn’t much worth remembering anyway.”

“Huhmmm” Hummed the other teen, who Kuroo now noticed hadn’t been bothered to get dressed, still in boxers and t-shirt, but had pulled up his hair. Talking about vain, he thought with a smile on his lips, just as Kou shifted one last time to be comfortable and nearly kneed him in the face. He bit the offending knee as revenge, receiving the expected giggled “Oi”. Koutaro was horribly ticklish everywhere, something Kuroo was not ashamed to take advantage of at all possible opportunities- Bokuto had put gel in his hair more times than could ever be forgiven (and make no mistake, the bedhair is natural, and gods did his hair not do well with gel in it too. It stood up like fucking Vegeta’s for a whole week).

Their eyes locked onto each other and both grinned, and something horrible was sure to follow. Or at least, would normally. But something changed in that moments as their gazes mingled. Something shifted, something softened. The air circled and mutated into something heavier, tenser, hotter… Kuroo’s body was tingling, burning where they connected, and his throat was dry, his mouth pleading to put it’s teeth back into that flesh. He saw in Koutaro’s glance that he’d noticed the shift too, and he bend his neck, gave another bite into Bokuto’s knee, this time soft and experimental.

“Hey…” Spoke the other, his voice low but steady. “Want to have sex?”

“Yeah.”

And then their grins were back, stronger than ever, and in a blur of motion Bokuto had shifted and their mouths were against each other and their tongues clashed and licked and they were both gone that instant.

Being with Bokuto turned out to be one of the easiest things Kuroo had ever done. Like everything between them it escalated and fell into the background like the tides, but it was safe, fun and comfortable, and in a way all of Kuroo’s dreams come true. Whenever he felt cold, or wanting to cuddle, he could drag his blanket with to the room next door and snuggle up to his best friend. Whenever he was horny he could do the same, sans blanket, but most often their sexual encounters were an extension of a fun afternoon or night already spend in each other’s presence. Naturally, Bokuto would climb into his bed his fair share of times too- and they agreed, amongst childish giggling, that the fact they were both huge cuddle monsters was approximately the best thing ever since those cereals with chocolate chips and little biscuits that they couldn’t really afford on a daily basis but bought anyway. It quickly became really rare for both their beds to be occupied.

A year passed in the blink of an eye like this, and though neither of them was completely happy with their academic results, they greeted their second year eagerly. Kenma enrolled in a university only about 20 minutes by metro from their place, so Kuroo was excited about that. Meanwhile Bokuto was about to burst because Akaashi was actually going to frequent the same university as them. Cue the owl boy’s high pitched squeal of joy.

It was great to have their friends close again, and, naturally, a setter they both got along with on their volleyball team. All seemed fine and dandy, despite the worried itch Kuroo felt at times and refused to accept he knew the source of.

It only became inevitable when Bokuto went into a dip that lasted days on end, his mood refusing to truly ever pick back up. He tried to pretend he was fine, but he fooled nobody. Kuroo, on the other hand, had tried to fake ignorance, but he was definitely not blind to what was going on with his second best friend. He too had tasted the atmosphere, so familiar and welcoming (just not to him). He had noticed the glances. He knew what they meant. He knew what he had to do. Bokuto wouldn’t do it, after all, and Kuroo couldn’t even deny that he’s seen it coming. In the end, what mattered more was his friend. He couldn’t ever forget that what was most important.

“Yo, Kou, you have a moment?” Kuroo leaned against the doorframe of the other’s room, a friendly smile on his lips.

“Oh, yeah, course.” Bokuto dropped his pencil and turned in his chair. He really was improving his study habits this year, Kuroo thought, but he’d have been impressed if it didn’t feel like a manoeuvre to avoid being alone with him at night. “What’s up?” The grin on his face was listless, and it gave Kuroo courage to step forward. To do the right thing.

“Ok, so. Euhmm…” He scratched the back of his neck, took a seat on Bokuto’s bed. “You know back in highschool, how Nekoma had this especial rivalry thing with Karasuno? It wasn’t that we didn’t have a good rivalry going with you guys, but there was just something… especial, about the whole battle of the trash heap? Ya know…”

“Yeah…?” An eyebrow rose together with the end of the word.

“Uhm… yeah, ok, nevermind, this isn’t working, is it?”

“Nope, I got no idea whacha getting at, bro.” Bokuto smirked his answer.

“Ok. Uhm. Fine.” he took a breath, steeled himself and met the other’s gaze right on. “We should break up.” “Wha-” Their eyecontact broke. “We got this good thing going and all, but there are more fish in the sea and honestly you shouldn’t hold yourself back from something great just because you have something good, so, yeah, let’s just quit ‘us’ here and go back to just being friends.” He barreled through the lot of it and came out at the other end with a ratting chest and a little out of breath.

Bokuto was staring at him with big wide eyes. “But…” He mumbled out, clearly confused.

“It’s ok, right? I mean, we had fun, and now it’s time for you to go and catch the real deal.” Bokuto’s eyes grew wide, like he’d thought he was able to hide it, been anyhow subtle. Kuroo smiled like his own words hadn’t hurt him, grabbed the knees of his shocked flatmate and hit them together repeatedly. “So get out of this down, would you? We’re best bro’s above anything, right?” He grinned, and held out until his friend grinned back at him.

“Yeah we are.” Came his answer, and they shared the radest of handshakes, before Kuroo filed back out of the room.

It took about a week of Bokuto’s whining and occasional effort before he brought back the good news in the form of his new boyfriend. Kuroo didn’t even know if the term was correct, since they hadn’t really ever defined their relationship, but he clapped both Bokuto and Akaashi on the shoulders as congratulations before grabbing his jacket.

“Wha, where you going?!”

“I’m off to Kenma’s- you loveowls have fun, and don’t destroy anything!”

Kuroo was halfway down the hall when a strong call of his name stopped him. He turned and saw Akaashi, standing alone in front of their door, a serious expression on his face. Against all expectations, he bowed, and said, calm and powerful, “Thank you.”

He fought the swelling in his chest and the tears burning behind his eyes, gave a playful salute and yelled “Anytime!”, before running off.

Kenma told him he’d done a good thing, and that he was proud of him. A depracating snort spilled from the young adult, and he nodded, trying his best to make himself believe. In a way he knew this was what was best, of course he did. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t. But none of it changed anything to the cold loneliness of his bed.

[ ](http://nadirising.tumblr.com/post/108369203956/hey-spoke-the-other-his-voice-low-but-steady)


	6. 21- Daichi

Kuroo was 21 and barely managing to pay the rent to his own place he had moved into only two months ago. It really hadn’t been too great planning on his part; he didn’t have the time to work enough hours on his part time job whilst keeping up with volleyball, the research for his graduation paper and being a TA.

He wasn’t sure where all his money was going to, but he had a vague, very vague idea. And it had everything to do with how he was sitting at a bar he’d been frequenting almost daily as of late. He liked the place, it was nice and cozy and the bartender was really a great guy. Sure, the bar may as well have been gay by definition, something the owner claimed time and again that it was not, but Kuroo didn’t care. The only thing that cared were his wallet and bills.

“Why don’t you get a roommate? Or move back in with your old pal?” Offered the bartender, Takeshi-san, upon listening to him complain (again).

Kuroo rose a hand, lifting a finger at each point he made. “One, my apartment doesn’t have a second room, two, I don’t think I want to share with a stranger, thanks, three, his boyfriend moved in with him, like, half a year ago already, and you know what? Being third wheel in your own place really isn’t as much fun as it sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound like much fun at all.”

“My point exactly, thank you Takeshi-san.”

The older man sniggered softly, hit Kuroo compassionately on the shoulder, then excused himself to serve somebody on the other end of the bar. The young man sighed into his drink, mostly gone already, and traced the rim with his finger.

Bored.

He’d been bored lately, and he hadn’t wanted to accept it.

It really wasn’t a state of being he was much used to, and he really didn’t get where it was coming from either, what with his galactic workload. He always looked forward to free time, but when he got to it, his feet just dragged him off to this bar just down the street from where he now lived, alone, sat him down at a stool, a little less alone, and left him to do nothing for the rest of the night.

He grabbed his glass and threw the rest down, determined to actually get up and go do something this time, knowing how low the odds were but ignoring them, when somebody took a seat beside him. Fingers tapped on the wooden counter, and the man next to him ordered a drink when Takeshi-san returned. Kuroo could only smile as he turned, leaning exaggeratedly on the counter, wearing the sliest of all his grins. “Who’d have thought you would ever stoop to drinking alone at a gay bar.”

“We’re not a gay bar, Kuroo-kun.”

“Well, I could say the same to you.” Was the answer he got when his companion swallowed his surprise in what’d probably be a record breaking time for their situation.

Sawamura Daichi smiled at him, and even though it was tired and worn, he still looked great. The years had been good to him, Kuroo thought, and adulthood suited him better than expected. And to be honest he’d always expected a lot- the teen had had the build for greatness, and now that it had filled out… well, let’s just say that Kuroo felt no inclination to rip his eyes away from that strong neck and powerful arms.

“What are you doing here?” Asked the old Karasuno captain, dropping a quick thank you as his drink got put before him.

“I live just down the street.”

“And he’s aspiring to be an alcoholic.” Added Takeshi-san, but Kuroo only snorted and wove the comment of. “No, seriously, you’re a great kid and all, I’m almost tempted to send you away half the time. Don’t ruin your future-”

“Woa,” Kuroo laughed, “Takeshi-san, please! Unwanted life-advice at this time of night?”

The man smiled conspiratorially, shrug his shoulders and walked off.

“Well well well, Kuroo the alcoholic. It has a sound to it.”

“Oh, please, ignore him, it’s a bit of an inside joke, really, but whatever.” He attempted to wave the topic off again, more successfully this time around. “But what bring you to the smoldering depths of Tokyo?”

“I went to college here, actually.”

“What, and you never looked me up?! Sawamura, I am hurt, truly.” He brought a hand up to his heart to show how truly hurt he was, but Sawamura wouldn’t hear any of it.

“It’s not like I had your number or anything.”

“Oya, you’re right! Well then, first things first,” and he snatched the phone right out of his companion’s jacket pocket. Perhaps turning to pickpocketing could have been the solution for all his financial problems, but he didn’t want to get into too many things at the same, really, it made the risk of mixing stuff up bigger.

Sawamura barely objected, just rolled his eyes and, to Kuroo’s surprise, downed his drink in a single go.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He mused, returning the phone, now with his number, to the pocket, feeling a little hint of concern, despite how he hadn’t seen or heard of the guy in a about 4 years and had no clue as to how he’d changed in that time.

“Nothing much. Just a break-up.” He ordered another of his drink.

“That sucks man. How long you been together?”

“Almost 5 years.” This drink too disappears in a single sitting.

“WHAT!?” Kuroo was happy he hadn’t asked for a refill, or it’d be all over the bottles behind the counter right about now. “But wait, then you’d have- oh!!! The cute guy with the mole!” Kuroo snapped his fingers at Daichi, a victorious smile on his lips. It’s faintly mirrored in the other’s pained grimass. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Sawamura shrugged, “I’m not even sure,” and drowned his face in his hands. “There’s just… we’ve both been busy and a week ago somebody he cared about died and I didn’t know… and…”

“Sorry man,” Kuroo put an arm around the other’s shoulder, pulling him close. “You don’t owe me any explanations, ok, you don’t have to-”

“I just don’t know what happened.” He hickupped, and so make it even more obvious that these weren’t the first drinks Sawamura downed this night. “We weren’t doing great, but… then suddenly he says he doesn’t know if he wants to see me anymore, asks me to just leave him alone… and… i’ve never seen him that angry…” The man swallowed, and Kuroo felt his heart break a little for him.

“Hey hey, it’s ok… it’ll be ok…” He pulled him closer, rocked him a little, hoping to offer some comfort. That’s how they spent the rest of the night: drinking, hoping to ease the pain and numbness.

Neither was really sure how they ended up between Kuroo’s sheets, sweaty and panting into each other’s mouths, firm grips grounding each other, delving together into pleasure and comfort and the sweet allure of forgetting, leaving everything behind, even if just for a moment.

When Kuroo woke up the next morning his head ached, and he’s firstly confused at the warm body pulled up tight against him. He didn’t recognize him right away, and decided to keep it like that for just another moment as he wrapped his arms around the other and just enjoyed their closeness for a while. It’s been too long since he’s had somebody to share a morning with, and he wanted to indulge for a bit, before inevitably ruining it with recognition. He had been trying so hard to ignore how much he missed this, the warmth of another being, the closeness that didn’t just feel physical when pressed together naked in a bed too small to share.

The companion groaned, and reality insisted on having Kuroo back.

Sawamura. Who’d have thought.

He shook his head and carefully peeled himself from the comfort of bed, grabbed himself a glass of water from the kitchen and brought another back for his fellow former captain.

Daichi was sitting half up on the end of the bed, leaning forward over his legs, hands deep in his hair. “My fucking head…” He mumbled, and Kuroo offered the water silently. Sawamura drank, trying to not make it too obvious that he’s scanning the place.

“Want an aspirin with that?”

Daichi nodded, rubbing his temples. “Fuck, I feel so… weak. Did we…?” He got the answer when his legs nearly buckled from under him as he tried to get up, but the messy haired young man caught him, settled him back onto the bed. “Take it slow, I’ll get you that pill.”

He returned with the promised medication to find Daichi’s face back deep into his hands. “I can’t believe I did that… shit…”

With a sigh he dropped next to the self-chastising man on the bed, passed him the pill. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think either of us was sober enough to know left from right.”

“It doesn’t, really, but thanks anyway.”

Kuroo pat his shoulder, not knowing what else to say. He could only imagine what Daichi was feeling at the moment, what with his break-up not having been quite final, by what he understood (and remembered) of the night before, but something inside him hated hearing the man talk like that, like… like it was nothing but a big mistake. Sure, alright, it was, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to be a mistake. His chest clenched shut, as he thought,  _not again. I’ve been a mistake enough times now…_

They met up at the bar again two days later, and Kuroo recognized guilt on Sawamura’s face. He said things were still the same with Sugawara (right, that was his name, Kuroo’d forgotten. He only remembered two names of Karasuno, honestly, and one of them was sitting in front of him and the other had already done his damage), but it was clear that he was hurting. Whether because of the break-up or because of their hook-up, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he wanted to know either.

He drank less than night, determined to not let the same happen twice.

But when Sawamura cornered him in the bathroom and locked their lips together the touch burned, and burned so good it short circuited Kuroo’s brain. They almost fucked a second time inside that little bathroom, only stopped because somebody pounded angrily on the door for them to get a move on.

It was nothing more than a delay of execution, in the end, as the middle of the night found them again fucking on Kuroo’s bed. It was all the same, the same stupid mistake. Only this time it was worse, because Kuroo had not been nearly as drunk as he should have been, and he remembered.

He remembered the slide of their glistering bodies, the broken moans, the way Daichi had gripped onto his tank top, pulled him close, held him tight, desperate and needing and wanting. Kuroo knew it was nothing but comfort for both of them, but moments like that reminded him too much of what it was like to be with someone. How it would be were it real, and he hated thinking of that.

When Sawamura called him a week later, asking to meet at the bar, Kuroo took it in stride. The young man was glowing in that bar stool, and Kuroo knew what he’d hear before the words reached him. A smile spread over his face too, a genuine one at that, he’s surprised to discover. After all, he’d known what this had been from the start, and Daichi had never even looked at him to begin with. It was alright, and he was happy that his potential new friend’s life had re-aligned itself. He’d never expected to fit in that alignment anyway.

When Kenma said he had bad luck with guys, Kuroo laughed. Yeah, maybe he had, he agreed. All of them just seemed to have somebody better waiting in line, he grinned- was finally able to grin about it. Time heals all wounds, they say.

But perhaps time wasn’t quite done yet, because Kenma’s face fell. “I didn’t.” He said, and Kuroo smirked and ruffled his hair. But then the head doesn’t raise, and the murmured apology made Kuroo’s breath prisoner in his lungs.

“No.” He managed to bite out after almost a minute of staring. There was anger and frustration bubbling in his chest. “Don’t you dare apologize for that- oy, Kenma, look at me.” The no-longer-blond’s chin finally rose and their eyes connected. “You did nothing wrong- heck, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that-”

“I know.”

“Well then don’t apologize!”

“I just…” Kuroo glared, and Kenma huffed. “Fine.”

There was a moment of silence during which Kuroo thought the conversation was over before he’s proven wrong.

“Let’s live together.” He suggested, and the messy haired man had no idea if it was out of the blue, a plan to cheer him up, or something that’d been brewing for a while now.

“What? Why?”

Kenma shrugged, but looked far too determined to be indifferent. “I can’t help with your bad luck, but it’ll help with your rent problem… and you’re my best friend, Kuro. I can be there for you, at least.”

Tears almost jumped to Kuroo’s eyes (they did), and he launched forward to wrap his best friend in a tight warm hug. “You’re awesome.” He mumbled, trying to keep out of his voice how touched and happy he was.

He knew he failed as Kenma pat his shoulder, hugged him back, and mumbled into his shoulder, “I know.”

[ ](http://nadirising.tumblr.com/post/108461757871/he-remembered-the-slide-of-their-glistering)


	7. (24 - Tsukishima Road)

(The 24th year of his life brought him another surprise re-encounter. Well, perhaps not completely unexpected. He’d kept in contact with Sawamura, and met up with him and his boyfriend a few times, and apparently the former Karasuno captain wasn’t the only one that lived in the Tokyo area at the moment. High on high school memories of volleyball, they tried to set up a dinner with all of their friends in the vicinity. This number counted a considerable 9 people, Kuroo included. He was excited and happy, eager even to see people again. He told this to Kenma over and over, and his flatmate just nodded and agreed in his driest manner, far from convinced.

It was a saturday afternoon, two months after they started trying to set a date, when finally everybody was gathered around a long table in a cosy yet not too expensive restaurant. Alcohol had just arrived as the much needed icebreaker, and moods were finally starting to lift.

He was in a quiet conversation with Sugawara when Lev is suddenly yelling his lungs out on the other end of the table, and turns to him with a nearly offended expression. “You slept with Bokuto-san?!”

A kind of silence fell, and many eyes swapped between his confused face, and Bokuto’s large grin. Conquering the alcohol, Kuroo wrung out a smirk. “Heck yeah. We fucked sooooooo much.” And he took eager satisfaction in the disturbed expression that nestled deep into the lanky man’s face.

“But isn’t it weird to be around people you broke up with? Like, I don’t think I could—”

“Kuroo kissed me when we were kids.” Kenma says, without lifting his face from the handheld gameconsole he was clearly holding out of sight under the table.

At that some eyebrows lifted, and Kuroo heard Sugawara snigger besides him.

“You have two exes at this table?!” Exclaimed Lev, in his classically obnoxiously loud voice, eyes nearly budging out of his skull.

“Three.” Grinned Suga, poking the messy black haired man between the ribs.

“Suga-san!?” Was out of Ennoshita’s mouth before he could stop himself, and he tried to sink into the floor as all eyes considered him worthy of a glance too.  
  
“Oh, maybe! How do you feel about adding a fourth?” Suga joked, nudging his shoulder against Kuroo’s. He laughed as Daichi shuffled uncomfortably, and finally said, “No, actually, it was me…”

Bokuto laughed, loud and boisterous, hitting his hand against the table. “You got a thing for captains, huh?! Anybody else we’re missing out on?” He grinned loudly.

There are small furtive glances, exchanged but never met, between Kuroo and Tsukishima, who sits quietly, seems to not let go of his glass for even a moment, and speaks not a word, face perfectly molded into a vaguely annoyed frown.

Kuroo straightened his posture and laughed loudly, rubbed the back of his neck a little, looking at Suga next to him. “Well I did get a taste of your grand king back in highschool…”

"Pffffttt-"  
  
“WHAT?!”

“You never told me that.”

“HAHAHAH YOU REALLY ARE A PREDATOR!”

And all was laughs and jokes for a while. The topic soon drifted off and was forgotten, by all except two, whose silence and lack of eyecontact becomes a way of communication by itself.

A few hours later, Daichi, Suga, Tsukki and Kuroo are the only ones still there. Kenma went home early, tired out by all the commotion, and the rest too had faded out at a decent time.

It is 1 in the morning and Tsukishima is finally meeting his eyes, and when Suga asks if he can help get the very drunk blond home, he nods dumbly, not too sober himself. Tsukki’s place is closer to the restaurant that his and Kenma’s, and just within walking distance. Convinced that some cold air will do them go, Kuroo sets out to drag the blond along. By the time they reach their destination, Kuroo’s legs are jelly, and his whole body feels like it’s boiling due to the proximity.

He briefly ponders, in a moment of clarity, if it is possible that he is still not over the tall blond, and if that’s why having his body so close to him again after all this time feels like this.

He questions no further when, the moment he opens the door, he’s pulled inside and pushed back against the door, a set of very drunk and desperate lips meeting his own. Their teeth clash but neither pays it much mind. It’s intoxicating, to have Tsukki’s mouth on his again, and all consideration for his own good are thrown out the window, discarded in favour of drunk pursuit of completion. He doesn’t remember much after they hit the sheets, only flashes of movement, moans and pleasure.

When Tetsurou wakes up the next morning Tsukishima is besides him, snoring softly. Kuroo doesn’t need to stare and enjoy the view- he might have only seen the sight a couple of times before, but he remembers, and rather wishes he didn’t.

He feels a kind of emptiness, big and blown out, sitting in his stomach. He can’t remember when he last felt as incredibly stupid as he does in this moment, stomach churning, breath hitching. At least he drunk enough water the night before to not add a headache to the package.

He slowly gets up, careful to not jostle the bed too much and wake up his partner.He stalks around the division to gather his clothes before leaving the room, and carefully closing the door behind him. He dresses quickly, trying to ignore how much he hates himself in that moment, and is about to leave when the door he’d just closed opens up again.

“Kuroo?” Yawns Tsukishima, holding a finger to his temple, clearly battling a hangover.

Tetsurou finds a faint smile on his lips, and allows it. “Yeah.” At least Tsukishima seemed to remember who he’d been with, he tells himself, and managed to keep the jibe to himself too. “Have some water, it’ll help for your headache.”

The blond sits at the small wooden table, rests his head between his hands, and gives no answer. Kuroo fills a glass and puts it in front of the suffering megane.

“Good luck.” He’s surprised by how his voice sounds: soft and careful rather than as miserable and stupid as he feels. Not more than two steps he managed to advance, before another soft sound stops him.

“Wait, please.”

Kuroo does. He stops and turns, finds the blond staring right back at him, finds the hollow in his chest contract at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” Mumbles the hungover man. “I was young and stupid and I know I must’ve hurt you, but I…” The yellow eyes stay glued to his long slender fingers, now folding and unfolding on the table. “I’m sorry, and I just wanted you to know…”

Tetsurou is still. He hadn’t expected an apology, after all these years of silence and disconnect. And yet here it was. He had no idea of what to do with it, so he kept his eyes on the young man in front of him as he fidgeted.

“… that if I had another chance,” his eyes lift, lock with a black pair, “I’d do things differently. If you’d let me.”

It’s been a while since Tetsurou had been so at a loss of words. He stares, confused, dazed, at the blond at the table.

Slowly he feels something in his chest unfold.

He walks back to the table.

Maybe he can give this another chance.

Maybe.

He sits down.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, it was a pain to finish, haha~ Comments and Kudos and Bookmarks are great, but don't worry, I'll happily make space for them! 8D


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